


Prickly Pair

by thewayshedreamed



Series: This Time AU [3]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas, MAAS Sarah J. - Works
Genre: Fluff, Nesta x Azriel brotp, Other, This Time au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27001126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewayshedreamed/pseuds/thewayshedreamed
Summary: Written in fulfillment of a Tumblr prompt.This one-shot is set in This Time (Nessian fwb au), but you don’t need to have read it for this to make sense! This takes place about 2 years prior to the timeline of that au at Azriel’s 22nd birthday party! I missed writing these two bffs, so I really enjoyed this prompt!Prompt--I’m assuming you said that insult lovingly.” & “Shut up and accept my love” for Azriel and Nesta brotp
Relationships: Nesta/Azriel brotp
Series: This Time AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1970644
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Prickly Pair

**Author's Note:**

> Warning(s)-- some strong language

When Nesta finally found Azriel, he was outside on the balcony. He stood with his elbows rested on the railing, head bowed as he looked out over Velaris. Her steps were quiet, but he seemed to sense her approach anyway.

"I should have known you'd find me," he said, never turning his head toward her.

As fellow wallflowers, it was usually Nesta or Azriel who slipped away from a crowded gathering first. They tended to favor the same hiding places and usually found themselves sharing their chosen quiet spots. Over the years, they had fallen into a contented kind of friendship built on mutual understanding.

She positioned herself next to him, elbows rested on the railing and their upper arms flush.

"Are you really out here brooding? It's your birthday, Az."

"What's the expression? It's my party, and I'll cry if I want to," he deadpanned.

Nesta's laugh carried over the balcony as she turned to look at his profile. If he was trying to hide his smirk from her, he was failing.

"I just needed a break," he continued. "It got a little overwhelming in there after a while."

She empathized whole-heartedly with his sentiment. In fact, Nesta would be lying if she claimed that very thing hadn't added to her motivation to go looking for her friend. The thought occurred to her that his need for a break stemmed more from the presence of one of their friends, though.

"Lucky for you, I brought beer," she said, as she handed one of the bottles to him and opened her own.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, both of them looking over the expanse of Velaris. It was one of Nesta's favorite aspects of their friendship; the complete lack of pressure to be an engaging conversationalist or to entertain Azriel. It was second only to their mutual appreciation for blunt honesty, making their communication fluid and effective. They often discussed their fascination with others' insistence on harmony above all else, even when that harmony was a short-term band-aid for a long-term bullet wound. The friends agreed that too often, sugarcoating led to more problems than it actually solved.

Nesta was the first to speak. "Mor?"

"Hm?"

"You're thinking about Mor, aren't you?" she asked.

Azriel had been pining after Morrigan for years now, and he recently made the decision to distance himself enough to let those romantic aspirations fizzle. Mor had noticed his withdrawal and confronted him, leading to a confession from Azriel and a friendly letdown. They had agreed to remain friends, but he'd set firm boundaries with her to allow him the best odds at moving on. Things were going well enough, but time could only move so quickly.

Her friend had understood Mor's position, but that didn't stop him from throwing a drunken pity party at Nesta's apartment, Cassian in tow. They had spent the night drinking along with him and padding his ego while he fought them every step of the way. Considering his state then, Nesta thought he was holding it together extraordinarily well tonight.

Azriel turned his face toward her, the glassy look of his eyes telling her he was pretty buzzed. Nesta was happy to see him let loose a little on his birthday.

"Don't act like you know me, Nesta Archeron," he joked, glaring at her and taking a swig of his beer. His elbows remained on the balcony railing which served to make his drinking more difficult.

Nesta's jaw dropped in mock outrage as she shoved his shoulder with her own.

"Don't be an ass. This being your birthday party won't protect you," she threatened, but she couldn't hide her amusement entirely. She loved drunk Azriel.

"Be nice,” he pouted. “You're supposed to spoil me tonight.”

"I brought you beer! What else do you want from me?" she demanded. "You need to lower your bar."

Azriel laughed openly and leaned into her shoulder. She felt a rush of affection for her friend. He was truly one of the most selfless and considerate people she knew, and it made her happy to see him enjoy himself. He more than deserved it.

"She's not right for you, you know," she said quietly, treading carefully on shaky ground.

"Nesta—" he warned defensively, his tone of a disapproving father.

"Hear me out. I don't mean that as a slight on Mor, I promise. I just don't know that you could ever love each other the way the other needs. It's one thing to be different, but you and Mor are another thing entirely."

Azriel hummed, but Nesta couldn't tell if it was in consideration or agreement. Her nerves compelled her to continue talking.

"But to be fair, I don't know who could possibly be good enough for you in my eyes." She looked at him in a moment of rarely demonstrated vulnerability. "I hope you know how incredible of a person you are, Az. You're an amazing friend, and I want the world for you."

He considered her words for a few seconds, nodding his head as he did so. A sly smile stretched across his face once he finally spoke.

"That's an interesting perspective from the woman who just told me to lower my standards and accept beer as a token of affection," he teased, relying on jokes and gentle barbs to communicate his appreciation.

Her eyes rolled of their own accord. "You'll be blessed to get beer from me if you keep running your mouth."

There was no bite to her words, and the both of them knew it was an empty threat. They shared a laugh that lasted longer than necessary, fueled by alcohol and the comfort that comes only with the truest of friends.

"I think if I stopped running my mouth, you would worry about me," he replied once they recovered.

Nesta nodded vigorously as she sipped her drink, the pair of them falling into comfortable silence again. The noise level within the house raised significantly, causing the both of them to cringe and chuckle at their friends' antics. The longer they stayed outside, the harder it was going to be to rejoin that band of lunatics.

"You know, I'm not sure what I did to earn the affections of such a moody and prickly thing such as yourself, but I'm very thankful I did," Azriel mused.

" **I’m assuming you said that insult lovingly** ," she replied dryly.

Nesta knew her friend meant no ill will, but she couldn't resist giving him a hard time. She shot him a playful glare with her words.

"You know what I mean," he insisted impatiently, frustrated at his brain for not cooperating with what he was trying to say. "I'm not saying that's all you are, but it's nice to not be the only rational cynic in this group sometimes," he stated sincerely.

"No, I totally get it. You like not being the only jerk around," she teased, although she knew she should go easy on her friend before his guilt set in.

Azriel leveled a glare her way, letting her know he was running out of his seemingly infinite patience. He turned around to lean against the railing before pulling her into a tight hug, his chin resting atop her head.

" **Shut up, and accept my love** ," he growled. "You know I'm not good at this."

Nesta laughed heartily into her friend's chest as she moved to wrap her arms around his waist. She almost felt guilty for preying on a drunk Az for her own entertainment, were it not for the fact that he had done it to her too many times before.

"I'm sorry, you're right. I shouldn't fuck with you today," she relented.

Azriel made to release her, but he tensed suddenly.

"For the love of the Cauldron," he trailed off, his gaze fixed over her shoulder.

"What?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose between this thumb and middle finger, shaking his head at what he saw behind her.

"Things are getting wild inside," he told her. "Your friend just took his shirt off during some sort of celebration."

Nesta's eyes fluttered shut as she processed his words. He was referring to the third piece of their puzzle, Cassian, who was clearly enjoying Azriel's birthday party to the fullest. They often found themselves in this scenario, as if they were two parents who needed to rein in their undisciplined child. It was all in the name of balance, they'd long since decided. Cassian's zest for life lightened their spirits, so they didn't mind having to mellow him occasionally.

"No, he's _your_ friend once the shirt comes off," she retorted.

"Bullshit. We're in this together. Because the next thing that happens is either his pants come off, or he fights Rhysand. You can't make me do this alone on my birthday," he pressed, refusing to accept her delegation of duty.

Her hands raised in supplication as she laughed. "Alright, alright. Fine. Let's go," she replied as she moved out of his way.

Azriel slung an arm across her shoulders to pull her into him, and she wrapped her own around his waist.

"Oh, and by the way; I love you, too."


End file.
